


orange trees

by redshifting



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Foreign Idol Love Languages, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27894154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redshifting/pseuds/redshifting
Summary: “Taro-kun,” says Renjun, “will you teach me Japanese?”
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Osaki Shotaro
Comments: 12
Kudos: 105





	orange trees

  
One way to erase an island is to invent the waters  
that surround it. You can name the waters  
that will turn all the sounds the island makes into salt.  
It will teach you to listen to everything you love  
disappear ... or you can invent a song so big  
it will hold the entire ocean.

— Patrick Rosal, _An Instance of an Island_

“Taro-kun,” says Renjun, tongue heavy on the ‘r’ in a way that would sound childish coming from anyone else but from him, is almost cute. “Will you teach me Japanese?”

Shotaro blinks, the smile he’d practiced into near-automation slipping into parted lips. “I— Japanese?” he starts, fumbling, “but why…”

Renjun’s smile falters for just a millisecond, Shotaro almost thinks he imagines it, before it’s back in full-force earnestness. “It’s okay if you don’t want to,” he says easily, a nervous half-laugh hidden somewhere in the layers of his voice like it’s about to tumble out, “I just thought—”

“No, no, I will if you want,” Shotaro says quickly, words running into each other. “I’m just curious. Why?”

“Well, I’ve always wanted to learn,” there’s a strange calming effect to his smile, morphine slowly emptying itself out of a syringe into Shotaro’s bloodstream the longer he lets himself look at the curve of plush lips over perfectly corrected teeth, “y’know, talk to more czennies around the world and all that. I think I have a knack for languages too! And they’re fun to learn, I like comparing all the little differences between them.”

“I think you’d be good at it,” says Shotaro, surprising himself at how genuinely he believes it. “And you already know how to read the _kanji_ , right?”

“Right,” says Renjun. “See, I’m halfway there already.”

Shotaro laughs. “It’s not that easy, Renjun-chan,” he says, tacking on the honorific to see if he can make Renjun blush. He’s rewarded with a brilliant pink hue blooming on Renjun’s cheeks, color rapidly seeping into his face even as he tries to keep up the confident expression. “There’s still a lot to learn besides that.”

“I’m a good student, I’ll show you,” Renjun declares, bravado suddenly slipping into something more bashful. “Plus… I thought you might like it.”

Shotaro tilts his head. “Like it?”

“You know, since you’ve been working so hard on learning Korean ever since you joined the company.” His eyes are startlingly bright. “I thought you might enjoy it. Getting to be the teacher. Sharing something you know.”

It’s ten minutes before his first live broadcast with the whole group. Shotaro thinks his face might actually split open as soon as he walks out in front of the cameras, he’s been holding this smile for so long his cheek muscles must be seconds away from ripping.

He’s zoned out. He’s in the zone. He’s so busy hovering on the edge of slipping seamlessly into his carefully practiced idol persona versus veering straight into a mental shutdown that he doesn’t notice Donghyuck approaching until his arm is securely fitted over Shotaro’s shoulders, leaning into him as to force Shotaro to bear his weight.

Shotaro grunts, shifting to redistribute the weight. From what he’s seen, this is Donghyuck’s way of taking care of people—annoying them into forgetting what they were worried about. “Haechan-ah? Are you ready?”

“I should be asking you that, our debut superstar,” says Donghyuck, grinning broadly. “Welcome to stardom! It gets worse before it gets better.”

“I’ll— I’ll work hard.” Shotaro’s eyes dart around for cameras lurking backstage. He doubts Donghyuck would be so candid if there were any—but still.

“Aw, don’t be so formal! You’ll do great. My advice for you,” Donghyuck’s tone darkens into something more genuine, and Shotaro leans closer, eager for what must be good wisdom coming from someone with four years under his belt now, “if you get the chance, flirt with Renjun.”

Shotaro blanks. “Huh?”

“I’m serious!” says Donghyuck, mock-offended. “Czennies will love it, _he’ll_ love it even if he pretends to hate it, and most importantly,” he pokes a finger into Shotaro’s sternum, right next to his thundering heart, “it’ll ground you. He’ll be your anchor. Renjun’s good like that.”

“Flirt with Renjun,” Shotaro repeats, strangely winded even though he hasn’t even done anything yet. Must be the altitude. “Got it.”

“You don’t believe me yet,” says Donghyuck, but he sounds anything but disappointed, “but you’ll see. It helps, I promise.”

He does, and it works like a charm, Renjun sporting a half-flattered half-flustered grin while the rest of the members coo and fans on Twitter work up a storm. But more than that—with every room he walks into Shotaro learns to look for Renjun, eyes navigating the sea of people before finding him and holding on steady. Like a ship coming into port, with the same old lighthouse to guide its way.

Without fail, Renjun will look back, and without fail he’ll smile, the gentle upturn of his lips a happiness only Shotaro is privy to. A small reassurance shared between the both of them.

Shotaro always smiles back, and after that he’s settled, centered. No matter where they are in the room, no matter how far apart they sit or which way they’re made to face, Renjun is always there, his steady presence a comforting weight draping itself around Shotaro. Often they don’t talk, but they don’t need to. There are some things more important than words.

Renjun, true to his word, is a good student. If Shotaro had known him better before then he wouldn’t be as surprised, but the fact remains that Renjun’s diligence persists despite the rarity of the short snatches of time Shotaro can find to teach him. It’s been only a month since they started and he’s already progressing quickly, random vocabulary advancing into full sentences and then basic but coherent conversation.

He catches Renjun dictating phrases into his phone and smiling to himself when it chimes with an affirmative. In the DREAM dorm he finds notebooks littered with tidy _hiragana_ and if he goes a few floors up he knows there’s a good chance he’ll find Renjun badgering Yuta into teaching him the swear words Shotaro refused to tell him. And it’s—he knows Renjun said he wanted to learn, but everyone says they want to learn and then they give up when it gets hard or inconvenient. To see Renjun going out of his way to learn when there are so many other things he could use his limited time and energy for is something else entirely.

“Shorin,” says Renjun, like he’s testing it out. Shotaro’s knee presses down on his back as he stretches forward, making sure he cools down properly after the end of another grueling dance practice. It’s late, and the rest of the members are slowly starting to trickle out of the room, leaving them, if not entirely alone, sequestered off in their own corner. “Shotatan. Shochirou.”

A laugh bubbles out of him, sudden and loud as it bounces off the walls. “Where’d you learn those from?”

“Yuta-hyung told me some,” says Renjun, “and I found some others online. Shotappi. Shotaroro. Tarotan. Sho-nyan was one, but I think that was a joke.”

“It probably wouldn’t be considered a proper nickname,” Shotaro agrees, letting him so Renjun can switch legs before he presses down again. “Taro is fine, if Shotaro is too long.”

“Everyone calls you Taro, though.” In the mirror, Renjun’s face is neutral, if a bit twisted up from the strain of stretching, but the way he says it _sounds_ like he’s pouting. “And the point isn’t to find something shorter, it’s to find something fun. Unless you want me to call you Osaki-san, but I think that would give the wrong impression.”

Back home it would be normal, but here it would be too stiff, make them seem like strangers. Shotaro still isn’t used to the forced intimacy of idol life, cultural differences and other barriers stripped away for the sake of presenting artificial closeness. “Too formal, yeah,” he agrees. “So what are my options, then?”

“What do _you_ think?” Renjun counters. “You’re the expert here.”

Shotaro thinks about it, humming lightly under his breath. “Whatever you like is good.”

Renjun snorts. “I knew you would say that. I’ll rotate until I find one I like more than the others, then. Sho-kun.”

“Fine with me.” Shotaro plops down on the floor next to him, folding himself into a smaller shape. “Did you practice?”

“ _Watashi wa Donghyuck ga kirai desu,_ ” Renjun recites dutifully with a cheeky smile, laughing once Shotaro laughs too. “Hey, how do you say ‘love’ in Japanese?”

“Like, you love a thing, or a concept? Or you love a person?”

Renjun shrugs. “In general, I guess.”

“ _Watashi wa_ dance _ga suki desu_ ,” says Shotaro, “as an example. I love dance.”

“You said _suki_ was like, though,” Renjun says accusingly.

“ _Suki_ is like,” says Shotaro, nodding, “ _suki_ is also love as non-Japanese speakers understand it. _Daisuki_ if you really love something, I guess. In anime they say _aishiteru_ , but that’s just— it’s not really something you say in real life very often.”

“Ah,” says Renjun, warm with realization. “for the dramatics. That makes sense.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s like,” Renjun leans back on his hands, staring up at an imaginary sky, “in English they say _I love you_. Korean _saranghae_ ,” he rattles off with perfect pronunciation. “Like you have to be so bold about it, or they won’t know.

“Even in Chinese _wo ai ni_ has become more common, on broadcast among celebrities,” he muses. “But we don’t really say it often either, especially if you’re confessing to someone. _Wo xi huan ni_ — I like you— is enough.

“There are so many different kinds of love. Love for fans, love for friends and family, love for your boyfriend or girlfriend. It’s not like you love them all the same way. Saying you love someone seems a little too general, doesn’t it? I think it’s better to just say you like someone and then let your actions show the rest.”

“What if you really do just like someone?” asks Shotaro. He says it quietly even if no one’s around, but the sound echoes in his ears, booming in time with the steady beat of his heart.

“Then you say you like them, and you leave room for it to grow into love.” Renjun turns to look at him then, eyes glittering in the dimness when he smiles. His own personal Polaris, guiding him home. “ _Shotaro ga suki desu_.”


End file.
